


Paint-Stained Hands

by enigmalea



Series: Stains [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dorian Pavus, Frottage, M/M, Marking, POV Dorian Pavus, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Tender Sex, Top Solas (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 12:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/pseuds/enigmalea
Summary: The day after their first... rendezvous Dorian assumes things with Solas will go precisely as they have for him in the past with others. He is pleased to find he is wrong.Mostly self-indulgent smut."Good evening, Dorian."He flinched, the sound of the man's smooth baritone nearly wrenched a sob from him, but Dorian managed to hold it together. He set his face to impassive, willed his shoulders to relax, and turned to face Solas with the approximation of calm plastered on his face. "Goodnight, Solas. I was just headed to bed, so if you'll excuse me, I shan't interrupt."Solas hummed noncommittally, the sound punctuated by a scrape of plaster. "About last night," he began."Oh yes!" Dorian interrupted cheerfully, though his stomach plummeted. "It's quite alright. I understand. No need to speak at length on it."Another scrape and Solas stood slowly, but gracefully, turning narrowed eyes to Dorian to take him in. Dorian's heart skipped a beat. He needed to go, fast, to get out of there before he did something stupid… like,beg. "What do you understand?" Solas asked.





	Paint-Stained Hands

**Author's Note:**

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It was stupid - stupid and impulsive and ill-considered. If you had asked Dorian months ago if he'd wind up with a hobo Elven apostate's cock in his mouth in an ancient castle's library, he'd have laughed in your face. Yet, something had happened in the months since they'd arrived in Skyhold.

It had begun when Dorian had noticed Solas pining - rather obviously - after Inquisitor Lavellan and had decided to distract the man from his lovesick quandary. At first, it had been for Solas' benefit… but then…

Solas had returned a letter with responses to Dorian's inane scribblings in the margins of his books. He still had it, folded and shoved into his bedside table… along with all its brethren as it had become habit. The responses were thoughtful, polite, often informative… and Dorian found himself looking forward to them.

And so, he'd asked Solas for his help with his research… which had been his undoing. It wasn't long before he couldn't stop himself from seeking out the other man, from doing everything he could to earn one of his rare smiles or cocky smirks. He realized too late he was in deep, that in attempting to save Solas from a foolish crush on the Inquisitor, he'd doomed himself… but, well, he'd always been a foolish man.

When Solas had kissed him last night in the library, he could hardly be blamed for his lack of control, for his poor decision making, for his inability to be the bigger man and just walk away. But in the glaring bright sunlight of the next morning, he'd known clearly and without a doubt, he had _ruined_ everything. Solas would be done with him now, ready to walk away and forget it had ever happened, ashamed (as he should be) of his indiscretions with Dorian; their tentative friendship (such as it was) was over. And thus, Dorian had done precisely as he should and avoided Solas all day giving the man the space he undoubtedly needed.

The problem was that meant he couldn't collect his research, as Solas had entered his office on the first floor of the rotunda early and stayed, planted there _all day_. It was late now, though, and with any luck he'd be in bed and Dorian could retrieve his books and notes and take them to his room. _Right, so open the door and go on in._

His hand was shaking as he pushed his way into the rotunda, silently offering a prayer to Andraste, the Maker, and even the Old Gods that Solas was in bed or asleep or at the very least wouldn't notice him. He froze at the sight of the man's tunic, his broad shoulders and trim waist, the hint of the curve of his ridiculously firm and rounded ass. _Fasta vass_.

Solas didn't acknowledge him. Instead, he squatted before the fresh mural and Dorian heard the familiar scrape of the metal trowel on plaster. His stomach did something odd and fluttery. Maybe the man's attention was firmly on his painting. Maybe he wouldn't notice. As quickly and quietly as he could manage, Dorian snuck past him and up the stairs, promptly gathering his books and notes, and flying back down the curved staircase.

"Good evening, Dorian."

He flinched, the sound of the man's smooth baritone nearly wrenched a sob from him, but Dorian managed to hold it together. He set his face to impassive, willed his shoulders to relax, and turned to face Solas with the approximation of calm plastered on his face. "Goodnight, Solas. I was just headed to bed, so if you'll excuse me, I shan't interrupt."

Solas hummed noncommittally, the sound punctuated by a scrape of plaster. "About last night," he began.

"Oh yes!" Dorian interrupted cheerfully, though his stomach plummeted. "It's quite alright. I understand. No need to speak at length on it."

Another scrape and Solas stood slowly, but gracefully, turning narrowed eyes to Dorian to take him in. Dorian's heart skipped a beat. He needed to go, fast, to get out of there before he did something stupid… like, _beg_. "What do you understand?" Solas asked.

Dorian flushed. Was Solas going to make him say it? He'd never imagined the man was cruel. "It won't happen again, of course," he huffed quickly. It was best to get it over with, like setting a bone; the pain wouldn't last as long if it was done quickly. "I… apologize for my impropriety. I shouldn't have-"

"I kissed you," Solas interrupted.

_A hand on his cheek, gentle and tentative. Solas' lips press against his tenderly, and Dorian can't stop his mouth from opening slowly, his hands from going to Solas' waist and pulling him closer_.

He nearly whimpered at the memory; his grip tightened on the stack of books. "Yes well, I pushed it too far and-"

"You gave me ample opportunity to stop," he interrupted again. Solas' face was contorted into confusion, a look Dorian wasn't used to seeing on the other man. "What… conversation do you think we're having, Dorian?"

"The one where you tell me we can no longer be colleagues because of what happened."

"I see," Solas said softly. He set the trowel on the table in the center of the room. There was a long pause, and then Solas inhaled deeply as if gathering his courage. "That isn't the conversation I'm having… unless it's what you desire."

Dorian thought his legs might give out. He was suddenly grateful for the books and parchment stacked in his hands. "What… precisely… is the conversation you're having, Solas?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he fell silent, introspective, as he stared over the books on his desk, arms spread wide. The pose was just a little too similar to the one he took as he was wantonly pressing back against Dorian's tongue the night before.

Something flickered across Solas' face quickly, an emotion Dorian couldn't quite name, and then the man stood, stark straight, shoulders back, hands firmly clasped behind him. Dorian was struck, not for the first time, with how regal Solas appeared when he stood that way; how confident and strong and handsome.

Solas cleared his throat. "Perhaps you are right, Dorian. I... I'm not sure what I was thinking. It would be kinder in the long run..."

The words barely had time to reach Dorian's ears before Solas was fleeing. Dorian hastily dropped the books in his hands the sound of them hitting Solas' desk still echoing as he desperately grasped Solas' wrist. "Don't go." He pulled Solas back.

_Foolish_. _Desperate. Pathetic._

Solas looked sad as he turned his face up to him- sad and conflicted. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he averted his eyes from Dorian's. Solas couldn't even _look_ at him he was so disgraceful. "Please… accept my apologies. I'm sorry. I have very few friends and I… I don't want to lose… I would very much like to continue our friendship," Dorian whispered.

"Yes, I… I think that would… that should be amenable," Solas replied softly. Solas looked at him again, violet-gray eyes as deep as wells and just as easy to fall into. He was suddenly aware of Solas' slim body pressed close to his, of the way the man seemed determined to keep his breath steady, of the flecks of plaster and paint dotting his shoulders and face. "But…"

"But?" Dorian tried not to sound hopeful as his eyes searched Solas'. The elf's expression shifted yet again, and Dorian found it dizzying to attempt to keep up with. Solas raised his chin and licked his lips, and Dorian's heart lept into his chest; his hand, where it was still wrapped around Solas' wrist, suddenly burned with heat.

"I find myself wanting to apologize to _you_ for last night. I don't believe I lived up to my own standards. I… think I could do better," Solas replied, shifting almost imperceptibly closer. Dorian inhaled sharply, his brain stopping short as Solas' words sunk in. He swayed forward, and Solas' arm slipped around him. "Would you like me to try?"

_Yes_. The word resounded loudly in his head, but Dorian stopped himself from saying it, Solas' proclamation of '_it would be kinder in the long run_' echoing in his head. He wasn't looking for "long run", though, was he? He was looking for right now, for whatever Solas was willing to give. In the long run, he would be returning to Tevinter.

He finally released Solas' wrist, his hand moving to cup Solas' cheek gently. The elf leaned into his hand, his face relaxing as his eyes slid shut; how long had it truly been for the other man if such a simple touch elicited this response? "Who am I to tell a man not to do his best?" Dorian teased.

The encouragement seemed to release whatever restraint Solas was holding over himself, and he surged forward to claim Dorian's lips almost possessively. The hesitation and timidity from last night's kisses were gone as Solas' hand tangled into his hair, pulling him forward. The urgent need in the way their lips and tongues explored, and their teeth nipped and nibbled sent shivers through Dorian's body. He couldn't get enough of the warmth and the sweet taste of honeyed tea which was so different from the red wine flavored kisses of last night… so much more… Solas.

Dorian was filling with need, growing hard between them, pressing insistently against the confines of his trousers. The arm around his waist shifted slightly, Solas' hand moved to his ass and pulled him closer. Solas' erection pressed against his stomach, the swell of it causing Dorian to shudder with excitement.

The kiss broke, both of them panting for air, hearts thudding rapidly in rib cages, and as Solas stepped back a bit, Dorian's hands flew to his waist, pulling him back, holding him close, hips rocking together subtly. _Embarrassing. Needy._

He forced his grip on the elf to relax, forced himself to allow Solas to move away from him as his long fingers, stained with pigment, began to work at the buckles of his clothing. Dorian didn't have the heart to tell the man the one he was struggling with was purely ornamental.

"One of these days, I'll learn how to properly undress you... or convince you to wear simpler clothing," Solas grumbled.

"This? This _is_ simple," he insisted. He grinned mischievously as he shifted to unbuckle the strap at his wrist, the buckle below his elbow, and the one hidden on the inside of his upper bicep. Solas watched intently as he unbuckled the clasp at his hip, and then with a flourish, Dorian triggered the quick release at his shoulder.

The elf's expression turned to a scowl as Dorian peeled out of his harness, tossing it aside haphazardly. He couldn't help the smug smirk on his face. "You weren't going to bother to tell me the buckle I was struggling with did nothing?"

"It doesn't do _nothing_," Dorian challenged. "It adds to the aesthetic."

"And what precisely is that aesthetic?" Solas asked. "Pompous, annoying, Magister with more money than brains?"

"Close. Pompous, annoying _Altus_ with more money than brains."

The statement earned him one of Solas' rare smiles, a subtle upward twitch of the corners of his lips, suppressed and subdued by his desire to remain stoic. Dorian wondered why Solas was so hesitant to show joy and what he could do to fix that, but he didn't have time to dwell on the thought because Solas was pulling him back in for a kiss.

Dorian normally ran warm (and just now, he was nearly overheated); Solas' hands were cool as they roamed the planes of his back and chest and arms. Solas couldn't seem to get enough of touching him, gentle fingertips sliding across his skin as his tongue slid across his lips. Dorian's hands moved to Solas' ass and he squeezed it as he pulled him closer. Solas moaned into his mouth and the kiss broke as he smirked into it.

Solas' fingertips trailed along his jawline, long fingers of one hand wrapping around his neck for just a moment. Dorian swallowed hard as he wondered: _Would he choke me if I asked? Would he tie me up? Would he spank me? How far can I push him? How wild will he get?_

The strangled sound that left him as Solas fingers traveled lower was unintentional; his thumb brushed over the bruise which had appeared overnight. "Hmmm," Solas mused. Dorian wasn't sure if his voice was actually deeper than it had been before or if he was imagining it. "I marked you."

"Yes," Dorian confirmed breathlessly.

"Do you want another?" Something in Solas' violet-gray eyes glinted dangerously - something uninhibited and _feral_ \- and it sent a thrill through Dorian.

"Oh… I wouldn't say no," he replied nonchalantly.

A predatory smile tugged at Solas' lips, and Dorian wondered if he'd made a mistake. Solas kissed his neck tenderly and a shudder passed through him. His hands found their way to the back of Solas' neck, fingertips curling against his scalp as Solas moved slowly down his body kissing and nipping at his clavicle. He could feel the tiniest hint of stubble which suggested Solas actually shaved his head, and he delighted in the feel of the prickly texture which was a stark contrast to the smooth warmth of Solas' tongue on his body.

He trembled with anticipation, waiting for the moment when the pleasure would cross the line into being just a _bit_ too much. Solas' arm tightened around his waist and he pulled Dorian close, throwing him off balance and directing him to lean against the edge of his desk. Dorian gasped in surprise, and Solas worked his way down further, nipping and suckling at Dorian's pec.

He moaned softly, fingers curling at the back of Solas' head almost involuntarily, his hips seeking friction. And then Solas _bit_, teeth digging into muscle as he began to suck roughly. "Ahhhh!" Dorian cried out in surprise at the mixed pain and pleasure which shot through him, his vision clouding and stars exploding. His back arched, head thrown back, breathing ragged as each suckle, each pass of Solas' tongue sending waves of pleasure crashing through his body.

One of his hands drug nails down Solas' fully clothed back before landing on his ass. He pulled the other man closer, leg wrapping around his waist, hips snapping desperately in time with the pleasure cascading through his nerves. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only let the intense throbbing guide the movement of his hips, the clenching of his hands, as he tried to pull Solas even closer. He was making sounds he couldn't control, low, incoherent moans, gasps for air, desperate keening sounds as he pulsed in his trousers. He was so close… so close, hips snapping in a driving rhythm, so close and Solas wasn't even naked.

_It isn't fair. It isn't fair. It isn't-_

It stopped. Solas' mouth was gone, and Dorian stumbled from the edge of orgasm, brain colliding with reality almost painfully. He was shaking in Solas' arms and he whimpered softly, wanting to demand answers for why Solas had stopped. He couldn't find the words, though, and soon his lips were claimed by Solas'. The kiss ended and Dorian whimpered again, but he finally released the intense grip on the back of Solas' head and on his ass, flexing his cramping hands.

"- okay?" Solas' voice called him further back to reality, and Dorian swallowed hard before nodding. How long had he been speaking? What had he missed? "Come on," he said softly, and Dorian slid bonelessly into Solas' arms as the other man guided him to the couch on one side of the rotunda.

Before Dorian could protest, Solas was on his knees, unlacing his boots and pulling them off. He tried to argue, but his boots and socks were already removed before he managed to say, "you don't have to-"

He sighed as Solas looked up at him in amusement. The elf gave him a cocky smirk as he rose up higher on his knees. Dorian leaned forward to kiss him gently, his hands moving to tug at Solas' tunic gently. "It has come to my attention, this is distinctly unfair," he managed. Oh, good. He could form sentences again.

Solas lifted up a shoulder in a half shrug, but he seemed to decide to play along; he removed his belt before pulling his tunic over his head. He rose to his feet gracefully, and his long dye-spotted fingers worked quickly at removing his foot wraps. Dorian watched in fascination as the fabric was tossed aside. He untied his trousers next, the straining fabric nearly bursting open as the knot was released, and he hooked one finger into the waistband.

Dorian felt violet-gray eyes sweep his body as Solas bit his bottom lip, and he held his breath in anticipation at the reveal, heart hammering in his chest. "Second thoughts?" he quipped.

He shook his head. "Just admiring the view," he countered. "Desire and debauchery are a good look on you."

"Better than... what was it? 'pompous, annoying Altus with more money than brains?'"

"Much," Solas confirmed, and then he tugged his leggings down over his hips, peeling out of the form-fitting fabric and stepping out of them.

Dorian inhaled sharply at the sight of Solas fully naked before him, his eyes moving appreciatively over the apostate's body: light skin dusted with barely visible freckles; hard, lean muscle, wide shoulders, trim waist, sculpted thighs. He couldn't stop his hand from moving to give himself a squeeze through the fabric of his trousers. "You really should fire your tailor," he said breathlessly. "His fashion advice is abysmal. No one would guess what's underneath those moth-eaten clothes of yours."

Solas quirked an eyebrow at him. "Maybe that's the point," he retorted.

He rolled his eyes, and Solas moved back to him, falling to his knees before him. Solas pressed a kiss to his knee as he pushed Dorian's hand away from his crotch; his fingers tugged at the tie of Dorian's breeches. "Up," Solas commanded, and Dorian obeyed without hesitation, lifting his hips to give Solas room to tug his pants down and off. His lap was full of warm, naked elf, then as Solas crawled into it, straddling him. Dorian wrapped his arms around the other man, kissing him deeply as he pulled him close.

"Lie down," Solas commanded again, and Dorian grunted in frustration, his hips moving up. Their lengths pressed together and Solas hissed softly. Dorian felt his pre-cum smear against the other man's stomach, and he couldn't stop his hips from moving again. Solas groaned into Dorian's open mouth. "Lie down," he repeated, though this time the command was breathless.

His curiosity got the best of him, and Dorian shifted, taking Solas with him, awkwardly rearranging himself on the sofa and bouncing Solas around a bit as he did. Solas pressed a leg between his thighs, pushing them open and sliding between them as Dorian settled down further, stretching an arm over his head, and curling it over the arm of the sofa. "Better?" he grumbled.

Long-fingers ghosted down his arm, over his shoulder, circling the quickly risen bruise on his chest. Dorian inhaled sharply, and then Solas pressed against the darkened purple spot. The groan that escaped him as his eyes slammed shut was involuntary. His hips bucked, pre-cum leaking from him as he sought friction, back arching into the touch.

"Much," Solas commented, and it took a few moments for Dorian to remember he'd asked a question. Solas' finger was replaced by his tongue swiping over the bruise and his breath hitched, fire shooting from the sensitive skin and electricity lighting through his nerves. Solas' tongue blazed a quick trail to Dorian's hardened nipple, circling it once before continuing lower. He followed the shape of Dorian's abs, teasing his way across his skin.

Solas settled next to his hip bone, licking and sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there until Dorian couldn't help but lift his hips in a desperate plea for friction. He didn't seem keen to take Dorian's nonverbal cues, because one hand moved to Dorian's other hip pushing it back down, as his tongue began to slide across his skin again.

His breath caught in his throat as the talented tongue circled the base of his cock, and then slid upward following the trail of precum. Dorian watched in fascination as Solas' tongue swirled around the head of his cock, pushing into the hole as if he couldn't get enough of his taste. Dorian groaned, hand moving to the back of Solas' head. "Solas," he gasped, suddenly not caring how desperate he sounded, "_please_."

He almost expected Solas to be a right _bastard_, to pull away from him and leave him begging, but the man rewarded him by wrapping his lips around his head and beginning to suck him fervently, tongue tracing intricate patterns which lit Dorian's body aflame. "Maker's breath," he hissed softly, and Solas moaned around him. The sound vibrated through him, pleasure encompassing him. His hips lifted, his strength overpowering Solas' temporarily, but Solas moved with him and he didn't manage to get more of the amazing feeling he was seeking.

Solas' grip tightened, and he found himself pushed back down abruptly. He whined in frustration, but Solas began to move slowly downward as his tongue traced and teased its way down his length. His descent was slow and nearly torturous, and Dorian's heart was pounding wildly in his chest by the time he was fully in Solas' mouth. "Ahhhh," he sighed softly. His hand moved from Solas' head, thumb stroking his cheek and jaw, feeling it stretch around him. He opened his eyes then, taking in the sight of Solas with his dick in his mouth, wanting to commit it to memory in case it never happened again. "Maker, you're good at that. Why didn't I let you do it last night?"

Solas hummed some (undoubtedly sarcastic) response, and Dorian moaned deeply. His moan was prolonged as Solas began bobbing his head and sucking in earnest, tongue moving so quickly Dorian wasn't sure where it was until after it had already moved. He was overwhelmed by sensation and his hand moved to the back of Solas' head again, fingers curling against it as Dorian wished, desperately, that the man wasn't bald so that he could pull his hair. He settled for gripping the arm of the sofa with his other hand, nails digging into it, as he curled a leg around Solas' body, trying to pull him closer.

"Fuck," Dorian gasped, and it seemed to startle Solas as his rhythm skipped a beat. "Don't stop!" he demanded before he realized what he was even saying. "Maker don't… stop…" The words poured from him in abandon as he grew impossibly hard, his balls starting to draw up.

Solas pulled away from him with an echoing _pop_, and Dorian let out a whine as he nearly spilled into the air. He quivered with anticipation before sinking back down onto the sofa, pleasure-saturated brain making it difficult for him to think. "Why?" he whined up at Solas.

The bastard smirked at him. "Because I want to feel you cum around me," he replied. Dorian whimpered, hips bucking into the air. "Where's the oil?"

Dorian gasped, his eyes flying to Solas' as realization sunk in. "I… I don't… I didn't expect to need it so soon," he mumbled. He threw an arm over his face, trying to quell the rising panic. He wanted Solas inside of him, fucking him, making him scream; he wanted it more than anything he could think of in recent memory.

"Ahhhh," Solas said softly. "It's okay. There are a lot of ways two men can take pleasure from one another's bodies." He resisted as Solas' long fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged gently, but he finally gave it up as Solas tugged once again. Solas pressed a tentative kiss to the palm of his hand, his lips moving lower before he nipped at the inside of Dorian's wrist.

Dorian wasn't expecting the jolt of pleasure that caused, nor the way his breath hitched as Solas followed the nibbled with a swipe of his tongue. Solas shifted slightly, his other hand moving between them as he took Dorian in hand, his thumb swiping through his precum and spreading it down his shaft. He moaned softly as Solas began to stroke him slowly, in time with the sensual strokes of his tongue on Dorian's wrist.

Solas' erection sat heavily against Dorian's stomach, rubbing lightly as he began to move his hips, thrusting into Solas' hand. Solas shifted rhythm faltering a bit as he wrapped his long fingers around both of them, beginning to stroke them in unison. Dorian could feel Solas' warm and heavy cock against his, sliding against him in time with Solas' hand.

He felt the whole-body tremor which passed through Solas' body as the other man began to thrust. He nipped at Dorian's wrist again and then began to trail kisses down his forearm. He could only make it so far before he had to fall against Dorian's body, the hand which had been around their cocks catching him as it landed next to Dorian's head. "Ahhhh," Solas moaned softly before capturing Dorian's lips in a kiss.

This was new, unfamiliar, the weight of Solas pressing their cocks together almost roughly. The first thrust took him by surprise, pleasure surging through him at the friction. "Oh," he gasped against Solas' lips. He shifted slightly, hooking one leg around Solas' to give him more leverage.

He could feel Solas sliding against him, the slick slide of his foreskin and his balls, their pre-cum mingling, friction building slowly. Solas was quickly coming undone as he pressed kisses to Dorian's neck and ear, breath warm and gasping. Dorian met his thrusts, body humming and pleasure building with each delicious slide. His own breathing became ragged as Solas pulsed against him, their chests heaving in time.

This was almost too much, too intimate, they were too close.

Dorian whimpered, nails dragging down Solas' back. Solas groaned into his ear, picking up his pace, hips moving in a circle as Dorian gripped his ass, trying to pull him closer for more friction. Solas' pants became punctuated with soft growls, joining Dorian's "ahs" of pleasure, a symphony of sound bouncing throughout the rotunda.

"Harder," Dorian whimpered, though he didn't know where the request came from. Why was this so good? Why did it feel like every nerve he had was on fire? Solas growled as he tried to oblige. The pressure was building quickly, fire at the base of his spine as his balls pulled up. "Don't stop… don't… fuck… ah fuck… Solas… Solas please."

His own hips were moving wildly now, Solas' name falling from his lips without restraint as he was consumed with the sounds of skin against skin, hot breath barely teasing him, Solas' warm baritone punctuated by half-gasps. He clung to the smaller man desperately, wrapping his other leg and arm around him now, pulling him closer, pressing kisses to Solas' shoulders as their hips did nothing but seek out more and more and more.

"Dorian… Dorian, I'm…" Solas gasped into his ear. He didn't have to, Dorian could feel the length of him, impossibly hard, pulsing, and getting harder and longer with each thrust. Solas growled deeply, and the sound surged through Dorian, thrilling him.

He slid against Solas once, twice more, and then with a loud cry he spilled, orgasm erupting unexpectedly from him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't stop thrusting, lightning exploding behind his closed eyelids, body quaking. The heat and slick of his spend made the pleasure that much greater, and Dorian pulsed erratically against Solas.

He became aware of a deep moan, of Solas shaking in his arms, cock spasming against his stomach wildly. He was still clinging to the elf his own aftershocks hitting him occasionally as Solas collapsed bonelessly against him. Dorian pressed a kiss to his forehead, his temple, his cheek. He sighed deeply, forcing himself to let go of Solas, to unwrap his legs and arms from around him, even though he didn't want to.

Solas kissed him then, tenderly, tongue sliding between his lips. Dorian whimpered softly as his heart surged.

Oh. Oh no. This was bad. This was very bad.

Solas was staring down at him as he opened his eyes, gray-violet boring into his soul. Dorian nearly looked away from the heat and tenderness they held. "That wasn't exactly what I had intended," Solas sighed, "but it wasn't terrible."

"Certainly not," Dorian agreed. He swallowed hard. He should be deflecting, should be making jokes, should be preparing for this to end. "Was that performance up to your standards?"

"Very nearly," Solas replied. "I can try again if you'd like. I can do better."

He glanced away. "Tonight?" he scoffed.

"Tonight. Tomorrow. Another day," Solas offered nonchalantly. The elf shifted, sitting up slowly as he disentangled himself from Dorian's arms. He reached for his tunic and without hesitation began to wipe up Dorian's stomach. The tender gesture caught Dorian off-guard and he started up at Solas, eyes wide.

"I… yes. Yes, that would… yes."


End file.
